


Flesh and Blood

by puppyfacedbrokenboys



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, BAMFs, Blood and Gore, F/F, F/M, M/M, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppyfacedbrokenboys/pseuds/puppyfacedbrokenboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“We don’t know how the hell we’re going to survive but I’ll be damned if I let everyone in this house die because I wasn’t strong enough to use a damn gun!”</i>
</p><p>It’s two weeks before graduation when the world goes to hell.</p><p>[Indefinite hiatus]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flesh and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by Ravenheart101 on ff.net and I. We have no clue if this is going to get more than one chapter, but we like it so far! :) 
> 
> Future pairings will probably piss people off... you've been warned.

It was a generally nice day two weeks before graduation. The seniors were walking back from their trip to the park for lunch, part of their senior privileges. Tina had her arm between Blaine’s, locked at the elbows, Sam and Artie were chatting away about the newest Superman movie and Blaine was interjecting every now and then, Tina was silent but happy. They were all happy. The panic of where they would all be after graduation was gone, Sam was staying in Ohio, Tina was heading to New York and so were Artie and Blaine. The three of them even planned on getting an apartment together, the others wisely keeping their mouths shut about Kurt and anything to do with him. They promised Sam they would visit at least once a month and he promised to visit as much as he could.

They were in the deliriously happy stage of graduation. They would be leading the New Directions to Nationals in a few days, they had prom the coming weekend, and then graduation would hit. For now, the four friends wanted nothing more than to fix the bridges that had been burned and have a good end of the year.

Still there were some pesky things to fix, such as the Ryder and Unique problem. As much as some of them were loath to admit, they needed Ryder, or at least they would need Ryder when the next year started. Kitty was getting irritable again and while Marley and Jake were adorable they were starting to creep into Finchel level of always there.

Tina had to worry about fixing things with Mike, the two of them on the road to recovery. Artie had to worry about whether the apartment they were moving into was wheelchair accessible or not. Sam had to worry about how to balance two jobs and college classes. And Blaine had to worry about stabilizing everyone in the group, trying to ignore the cold chill that the mention of Kurt sent through him, and deciding exactly which college in New York to attend.

It would be pretty pathetic within the next few hours that this was what they were all worrying about.

“And, man, the effects were amazing!” Sam was gushing, his hands flying out at his sides to show his enthusiasm.

Artie nodded. “The cinematography was fantastic, really.”

“They stayed pretty true to the original story,” Blaine supplied with a lazy shrug. He knew more about Superman than he probably should, having constantly watched the movies with Cooper when he was younger. Before he had discovered Batman and Nightwing, back when Cooper was thirteen and would watch the old Christopher Reeves movie whenever he was sick and would read Blaine the comic books when he couldn’t sleep.

“I thought Amy Adams did a great job,” Tina said and traded a smile with Blaine.

“Oh, dude.” Sam tapped Blaine on the shoulder. “We still on for the new Star Trek tonight?”

“Oh totally,” Blaine reassured, even though he had seen the movie once before when it had come out with Artie and Sugar. “I’ll pick you up? We can go to the theater in Lima.”

“You should just sleep over man.” Sam knocked his shoulder against Blaine’s and threw an arm over his shoulders, wagging his fingers in Tina’s face to get a laugh out of her.

“I have to bring my grandma to the doctor’s tomorrow,” Blaine turned down the offer. “So we might have to go to an earlier movie, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, dude.” Sam held out his fist for the two of them to bump and they did. Only the moment that their knuckles touched a scream broke through the air, loud and female and causing the four of them to jump in shock. Artie’s full cup of soda clanged to the pavement and splashed against their shoes. “What the hell?”

Blaine couldn’t help the fact that his mind jumped to the shooting earlier that year, or the fact that his second thought was to make sure that Unique was okay. There were a lot of homophobes in Ohio. He dropped his arm from Tina’s and Sam dropped his from over his shoulders.

They stood in silence, not moving any closer to the school that loomed only a few feet away. And then there was another scream and a girl flung herself at the school’s doors. She had blood on her cheek and tears and snot on her face. “Help me!” She screamed at them, pushing open the door and stumbling closer to them. Cautiously, without really meaning to, they took a collective step backwards, Artie rolling just a bit away from the frantic freshman.

And then a hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. She snapped forward with a loud bang, a horrible scream pulling from her throat. She was dragged back and Sam didn’t think, he just lunged. He grabbed onto her outstretched hands and pulled. She came towards him, but not easily. The hand around her ankle finally let go, though, and she was pulled free. She fell forward into Sam’s embrace, her ankle a disgusting mangle of second hand blood and purple bruises. She was crying like a fool, but there were echoes of screams getting closer and closer to the school exit and the four seniors traded a look, obviously something very horrible was going on. “What’s going on?” Tina asked the girl, guiding her out of Sam’s arms and running her towards the football field, Artie following after them and frantically calling the police.

“I-I don’t know!” the girl sobbed out, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“What happened?” Blaine asked gently, walking next to her and taking a mental inventory of the girl’s injuries.

She looked at him for a moment before sucking in a breath and nodding. She probably recognized him – resident gay of McKinley High School, class president, male Cheerio, head of the New Directions and in about eleven other clubs. “I-I was in E-English and this… this _monster_ comes in and just a-attacks the tea-teacher and…” But she can’t get the rest out, too busy crying loudly and falling to her knees with a  cry of pain from her busted ankle.

Blaine trades a look with Sam. “Call the others,” he orders and pulls out his own phone, scrolling through the contacts. His finger hovers over the one to dial his brother and his parents but he shakes his head and bypasses them in favor of pressing down Marley’s number.

“There’s no answer!” Artie suddenly yells and Blaine almost drops his phone in shock. No answer? From the police?

“Did you try 9-1-1?” Sam asks frantically.

“No, I tried to call Starfleet!” Artie rolls his eyes mockingly and Sam retracts. Blaine almost wants to scold the bespectacled boy but he knows that won’t settle anything. His heart pounds frantically in his chest and he prays that Marley will answer. Prays that she’s okay. That the others are all okay.

Suddenly the phone stops ringing and Blaine can hear a tiny voice from the other end. “B-Blaine?!”

“Marley!” He almost drops down next to the freshman girl in relief, instead he links his hand with Tina’s free one and holds on tight. “What the hell is going on?!”

“I-I don’t know!” Marley lets out a tiny, frightened squeal. “We-we’re hiding in the choir room.”

“Who’s we?”

“I’ve got Ryder!” Sam yells out and Blaine feels a bit of relief that soon morphs into fear.

“J-Jake. Unique, and Kitty. We-we were all at lunch to-together.”

“I can’t reach Joe!” Tina yelled and Blaine felt the fist of fear grip at his heart again.

He looked around frantically, hoping for a way to get Marley out of there. “Are there any teachers with you guys?”

“M-Miss Pillsbury.”

“Okay.” He bit his lip. “You locked the door, right?”

“Yes!” she yelled out when a bang sounded. Loud. It didn’t sound like a gunshot though. More like a body slamming against the door. “Oh my God!”

He heard a scream from the speaker of the phone, not Marley’s but a scream nonetheless. “I need you guys to get over to the windows.” His brain’s working fast. Faster than it’s worked in a long time. He hadn’t needed to be the responsible adult when the shooting happened. But now… now he needs to. He’s not sure how he’ll manage under this pressure. “P-pile the chairs and break open the windows if you have to.”

“Okay. Okay.” Marley put the phone on speaker and places it on the ground, standing up to do just that. She relayed the orders to the others and, shakily, they nodded and stood back as Jake and Kitty picked up chairs to throw at the windows. Suicide proof. What good they did now.

The glass shattered with a bit more effort than they anticipated. Another body slammed against the door and Unique let out a squeal when the face pressed against it. Gregory from third period. He was nice.

He was also dead.

“Now what?!” Kitty yelled at whoever would answer.

Blaine motioned for Sam to follow him, sprinting around to the back of the school. What they saw made them pause in absolute fear. Blood stained windows. More bodies slamming with each second. Blaine had to fight the urge to run away. He traded a look with Sam and the two friends, without hesitation, grabbed each other in a tight hug before letting go, Sam’s arm still around his shoulders. They were shaking. Sam was crying, Blaine was amazed that he wasn’t yet. “You’re going to have to jump down.”

“What?!” Jake yelled from the choir room, running over to the edge and looking down. It was a long jump.

Blaine stopped when he saw two chairs and a pile of glass on the pavement. He looked up. Jake’s head looked down at him. He tossed the phone onto the pavement. “You have to jump!” He flinched as another body collided with the windows. He looked down with horrified eyes, watching as another body, darker and paler at the same time, bit into the person’s flesh, tearing off a piece eagerly. He felt like throwing up and Sam actually did. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“It’s like The Walking Dead, man,” Sam gagged out between heaves.

“Come on, Jake!” Blaine suddenly felt a surge of urgency, something he hadn’t felt in a while. “ _JUMP!_ ”

Jake spared another look behind him before sprinting away. Blaine swore under his breath counting the seconds until he was back.

Only the next thing he knew a body was flying out of the window and out onto the pavement. Marley. She screamed as she soared through the air and the moment she collided with the ground Blaine was by her side, pulling her up and moving her back as another came out towards them.

Kitty.

She yelled as she was flying too, and let out a loud puff of air as she hit the pavement. They were sure to have glass shards in them, scrapes too. But at least they were out. Sam managed to get a hold of himself and ushered her out of the way, grabbing tight to the top of her arm and pulling her away.

Next came Unique, though she seemed to be pushed rather than jumped. She landed though, and big, fat tears were pouring down her cheeks. When Blaine and Sam helped her to her feet she grabbed tight to Marley and Kitty and didn’t let go.

There was no one for a while, and Blaine held his breath, waiting for the next person to jump.

He didn’t know what was going on up there, but he could pretend to. Jake and Miss Pillsbury fighting over who jumped first. Miss Pillsbury citing the fact that she was the adult and Jake had to get to safety before her.

“Jake!” And then Marley yelled up at the window and Blaine steeled himself. Her voice was raw with misery. Tainted with the idea of what would happen if she were to lose him after he made her jump first. “ _JAKE_!”

And then he came flailing out, his body skidding against the pavement.

Blaine let out a breath he was unaware to having held. He scrambled to pick the younger boy up, stepping away from the window just in time for Miss Pillsbury to come flying out herself.

She had managed to compose herself far more than Blaine had thought she was capable of. She pushed herself up and Blaine winced at the absolutely damaged heels she was wearing. But then she pushed them all back towards the direction they had come.

It seemed others were having the same thoughts as they had, throwing chairs at windows and jumping out. Blaine wasn’t sure if they were the ones that were eating people or the ones that were trying to escape. All he knew was that he had to get all of them to safety.

“Get your car!” he yelled when he saw Tina start to run towards him. “Get your cars!”

And Sam ran to the left, and Tina turned around and ran straight and Blaine turned to the right. He fumbled for his keys in his pocket, nearly dropping them with the adrenaline. He unlocked it, though, after a few seconds longer than it should have taken. “Get in!” he yelled at whoever was with him. He watched as Sam heaved Artie out of his wheel chair and into the passenger seat. Watched as Marley and Jake scrambled into the back of his car, watched as Tina helped the injured freshman into hers, watched as Kitty ran to Sam and Unique ran to Tina. Jumped when he felt Miss Pillsbury’s hand on his arm as she wobbled over to the passenger seat before sliding in.

Where were they to go? Where would they hide out? There was nowhere.

This was a nightmare.

But his parents were out at work and they wouldn’t be home until late and he was gifted with a top of the line security system…. “My place!” he yelled to Tina and Sam. “Go to my place!”

Sam seemed to understand right away and nodded. “I’m gonna go get Stacie and Stevie!”

“Sam, no!” Tina yelled in desperation.

“I can’t just leave them!” Sam insisted.

“Sam!” Blaine tried but Sam didn’t answer, clamoring into the driver’s seat and turning on the engine. “Sam,  _please_!”

“I’ll see you at your house!” Sam called through the open window and pressed the gas, shooting forward.

“ _Sam_!” Blaine and Tina both yelled but he was gone, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the surprisingly empty roads. “Shit.” Blaine didn’t even bother to hide his curse.

“Blaine!” Tina yelled in horror and Blaine turned to her, her finger pointing somewhere behind him. He spun on his heel and his heart dropped. Terrible screams started to fill the area, and students with an inhumane paleness to their skin were making their way towards them.

“Holy fuck,” he swore and jumped into the car, slamming his door shut and turning his keys. He prayed Tina did the same, slamming the gear into reverse and pressing on the gas pedal. He almost slammed his car into the one behind him but he paid it no mind, turning the wheel with a speed he didn’t know he possessed. Fear clawed at his throat.

He pushed the gear into drive and turned the wheel all the way to the left, catching sight of Tina speeding out of the parking lot. He spun his wheels and pressed on the gas, the car lurching forwards. He jerked the wheel to the right, not bothering to check for oncoming cars. The road was scarily empty besides his and Tina’s and Sam’s somewhere in front of them, taking a quick left at a stop sign.

Blaine wanted to go after him, wanted to wring his neck. But he also wanted to get the people in his car to safety. He had to be at the house when Tina got there or she wouldn’t be able to get in.

The speedometer showed just how fast he was going, creeping up towards sixty miles an hour. Not all that fast, but when you were driving in a twenty mile per hour zone it was like a speeding bullet. He guided the car onto the highway, Tina’s barreling out in front of him. There were a few other cars out here, and they were all going against the speed limit but Blaine was pretty sure no one cared anymore.

They sped up, approaching eighty in a matter of minutes and passing three over turned cars, people being torn out and ripped to pieces by others – those that were paler than any person Blaine had ever seen. It was then that Blaine realized that the radio was on, broadcasting the same message over and over. “ _Do not leave your homes or vehicles. This is not a test. Do not let anyone into your house that is not military personnel._ ” The man’s voice was stern and strict and Blaine recognized it as the voice of the President. His heart stuttered. “ _Emergency services have been cut out and, soon, all cell phone and internet connection will be severed. We ask that people still alive try to make their way to the nearest city, where the military has set up a safe house. Do not approach these things that look like your loved ones. If one approaches you, either run away or kill it on sight._ ” The President took a deep breath. “ _Stay safe, citizens of the United States of America. We’ll be back to broadcast tonight._ ”

The radio cut off and Blaine was suddenly struck by how silent it was. Marley was sniffling in the back, Jake doing the same. Miss Pillsbury was frozen, muttering something to herself softly.

And then, suddenly, Marley screamed.

A pale body stepped in front of the car and before Blaine could blink he had struck it with his car, the body flying up and over, banging against the hood and slamming back against the pavement behind him. Blaine slammed on the breaks, the car almost going into a skid. The tires squealed and Blaine felt air escape his lungs. They all turned to look out the back window, staring at the body as it, slowly, picked itself up, its arm ripped from its body but no blood pouring out.

“Go,” Miss Pillsbury urged.

Blaine didn’t move, too busy staring incomprehensively at the body as it turned to face them. Its jaw was hanging from its face, almost ripped completely off.

“Go!” Jake yelled.

The body took a few stumbling steps forward.

“ _Blaine, go!_ ” Marley screamed.

Blaine slammed his foot against the gas pedal and they surged forward, narrowly missing a car that was being torn into. A man was dead, slumped against the steering wheel.

And a figure was off to the side, biting into the flesh of a child and tearing it apart. The child was screaming and Blaine pressed harder against the pedal. The kid was still alive. He knew he couldn’t get out and save her. But, what he could do was end her life sooner. He pressed against the gas and sped towards the two. The one ripping at her skin didn’t look up but Blaine saw the little girl’s eyes. Saw the pain and the horror and slammed the car into them. The tires rolled over them and Marley and Jake and Miss Pillsbury screamed again.

Blaine had never hated himself more.

He shut his eyes for a moment in pain but kept going. He knew he was probably crying like a fool, knew he wanted to stop and throw up and jump off the overpass and just kill himself because this was crazy, but he had to get the others to safety first. Had to make sure that everyone would be okay.

“Where’s Ryder?” Marley finally choked out.

Blaine almost gagged. “I don’t know,” he said softly.

“Blaine, where’s Ryder?!” Jake yelled now.

“I don’t know!” Blaine yelled back.

They were silent after that, the two in the back dissolving into cries. Blaine hit the steering wheel and Miss Pillsbury offered him her hand. He took it without hesitation. He needed some feeling of connection. Needed to know he wasn’t alone in this.

They took the off ramp an hour before he usually would have due to broken speed limits.

They sped through the streets of Westerville with a familiarity that only Blaine had having grown up there. They pulled into his driveway, Blaine reaching up and pressing the button to open the garage without thinking. Tina’s car pulled in a moment after his, following as he pulled the car into the dark space and parking hers next to it.

He closed the garage door and turned off the engine, leaning forward and pillowing his head against his arms over the steering wheel. He hugged it close to his chest and fought back the tears.

Miss Pillsbury rubbed his back. “Go with Tina,” she ordered the two in the back and they nodded before silently getting out of the car. “Are you okay?” she said softly and Blaine slowly, nodded, even though he was anything but. He pulled his head away from his arms and wiped at his cheeks, shakily taking his keys from the ignition and stepping out of the car.

His legs were like noodles under his feet, but he kept walking forward, stumbling up the steps that led into the house and stuffing the key into the lock. The door swung open with little to no resistance and he punched in the security code without a second thought. Tina pushed the others in and followed herself. Unique, Marley, and Jake looked happy to be reunited, quick to pull the freshman girl into their hug too. “What-what do we do?” Tina asked softly as he locked the door they had just come from, turning back on the security system.

“Wait for Sam?” He rubbed a hand down his face. When had he become the leader?

She nodded and gave him a quick hug. Blaine hugged her back for a moment, happy she was safe, but wishing that it was his parents hugging him.

What were the chances that they were even still alive, though? What were the chances that Cooper was okay? He swallowed down the panic and bile and walked into the bathroom, kneeling down to take the first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink.

“Come on,” he said softly, jerking his head at the four towards the living room. “Let’s… clean you guys up some.”

They followed at a sedated pace, falling onto the couches. No one made to turn on lights, all of them knowing that that would somehow be a bad idea. They were lucky the government hadn’t cut off power. “I’m going to go grab some flashlights,” Tina said from next to them.

“Basement,” Blaine supplied.

“Okay.” Tina nodded.

“The girls can borrow some of my mom’s clothes.” _Borrow_. Blaine doubted they would be giving them back.

He was sure his mother wouldn’t care.

They nodded wordlessly. “Jake… you can take some of mine. Or Coop’s. We have some of his stuff here still.”

“Sure,” Jake said softly.

They looked exhausted. Blaine started on Marley first, as she was the first to go out the window. He took a pair of tweezers and pulled glass from her skin. The girl let out a few winces and whimpers, but not enough for Blaine to stop. It was the cut on her forehead that posed a problem and he sat very close in order to pull them out. If he didn’t think about it, Blaine could say that he was just helping them put on some makeup for a performance.

He tried to push back the sting of tears but they still came, and one still rolled down his cheek. He didn’t pay it any mind, but Marley did and, just as he pulled out the last visible piece of glass, the girl threw her arms around him and held to him tight. “Thank you,” she sobbed into his shoulder. “Thank you for saving us.”

Blaine buried his face in her shirt, the tears coming freely.

This was so messed up. He had never been so scared in his life. Was this really happening? Zombies? Skinwalkers? The undead? He tightened his grip on her and sobbed for what seemed like eternity before pulling away when Tina walked up the stairs from the basement, sitting down next to Marley and pulling bandages free to start applying them to her broken skin. She looked as though she had been crying too. Wordlessly he repeated the process with Unique, her hug tight and her cuts not as deep as Marley’s. She had more scrapes, though. Probably because Jake had had to push her.

Jake was next, silent but looking like he was going to break down any minute now. He had tried to be so strong. Blaine hugged him without prompting and Jake had held on tightly, crying into his shoulder before he latched onto Tina much the same after she had bandaged him up.

Then came Miss Pillsbury, who he noted he should probably call Emma. She hugged him too, but only for a moment before letting Tina bandage her.

Then came the freshman girl, Justine, Blaine making idle small talk as he cleaned off her forehead cut and scrapes and Tina bandaged her ankle.

They were silent then, for a moment as Blaine and Tina put the things back into the first aid kit.

“You…” Blaine cleared his throat. “You can take showers if you want. Change clothes.”

“I-I’ll go first.” Marley pushed herself up off the couch and Blaine nodded without words before leading her into his parent’s bedroom. He resisted the urge to throw himself onto their bed and cry into the pillows.

“Here.” He pulled out a pair of yoga pants from his mother’s drawer and a plain t-shirt. “You can wear these.”

She nodded, taking them with shaking hands. “I won’t take long.”

“I’ll wait right here for you.” He lowered himself onto the floor next to his parent’s bed, leaning up against it and shutting his eyes. She nodded and slowly walked towards the bathroom. She didn’t close the door. He didn’t feel the need to tell her to. Whatever boundaries that used to be there were gone.

He stayed in the same spot for an hour, and after a while, Tina came to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, tears leaking from her eyes. Her phone sat at their feet, waiting patiently for Sam’s phone call. The sun was starting to set and Blaine could see through the window that the only house with lights on was the one at the far end of the street. They were probably gone.

He pushed his head against the bed behind him, before standing up and stretching his legs. His knees ached from the way he had been sitting for so long. He offered Tina a hand up and the girl gratefully grabbed onto it, heaving herself to her feet and brushing off her cheeks. She grabbed her phone and it didn’t leave her hand.

Blaine didn’t have the heart to tell her that phone service was shut down.

“I’m going to go grab my dad’s radio,” he informed them, grabbing a flashlight and walking over to the basement door. He pried it open and shinned the light down into the pitch black place. There were no doors or windows here. It was their storage area really. He stood up on a box to reach the top shelf of one of the tall shelves. He pulled down the old radios, blowing off the dust and placing it down at his feet.

He had a thought.

He suddenly walked towards the box of old toys that used to belong to both him and Cooper, riffling through it and coming back out with four walkie talkies. Old, but just in need of a battery replacement. He silently thanked his parents for being such pack rats.

His heart stopped when he looked over at the far left wall and where his flashlight was pointing. An old poster for one of the video games Cooper used to play.

Blaine sprinted up the stairs faster than he had before, dropping the radio and walkie talkies before running up the stairs to his parent’s bed room. His father had shown him where it was after the shooting, taught both him and Cooper how to shoot when they turned sixteen. For Blaine it was more for protection, for Cooper more for a way for him to protect his brother if he ever needed to. He slid open his father’s closet, reaching in the top shelf sightlessly.

The weight was slightly familiar and slightly foreign when he pulled it down. Without another word Blaine tucked the gun in the back of his pants before walking towards the room that was his own since he was younger. He pulled out a pair of jeans and threw them onto his bed. He tugged his polo off and threw it in the corner.

There was no need for fashion. Not now.

He pulled a plain green t-shirt over his head, before tossing the gun onto the bed, right next to his jeans. He kicked out of his boat shoes and pulled down his pants. Quickly he changed into the jeans, sitting down and pulling on a pair of socks. He grabbed his pair of work boots, putting them on before standing up. He tucked the gun back in the back of his pants, welcoming the feel of the black metal against his back. It was cold but it was solid. He felt more ready to face this now.

It was weird that an outfit change caused that train of thought.

Changing into these clothes shouldn’t make him feel like he could face whatever was going on. Dressing simpler shouldn’t help.

He splashed water at his face, staring himself in the eye through the mirror. Blaine ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the stickiness of the gel.

Dinner.

He should make dinner. Make sure they all eat. Though the thought of food reminded him of the pale body he had struck with his car, and of the little girl he had run over to end her life before the… zombie did.

His stomach lurched and he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, all that he had eaten for lunch splashing into the water there. He gagged and hot tears spilled down his cheeks. No way was this happening.

His stomach lurched again and again until there was nothing left to throw up.

“Smart move,” Jake said softly from the doorway and Blaine knew he was talking about the gun tucked in the back of his pants.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he wiped his mouth and stood back up, his feet unsteady but good enough. Jake’s hand rested on his back to held him steady himself as he washed out his mouth and cleaned off his hands. His eyes met Jake’s in the mirror. “Dinner. You guys need to eat.”

“I don’t know if we can, man.” Jake sounded a bit queasy at the thought.

Blaine’s stomach turned at the thought of food himself. “We can’t just starve,” Blaine pointed out weakly. “It won’t do us any good.”

Jake nodded before turning away from the bathroom and walking back down the stairs. Blaine followed at a more sedated pace, not caring that he looked like shit or that the gun was showing or that his hair was a mess.

Tina didn’t say anything until she saw the gun. “Blaine!” Emma and the other girls were crouched down next to the radio and walkie talkies, putting in new batteries and cleaning them off. Blaine didn’t even have the energy to ask them where they had found the batteries. “Why do you have gun?!” Emma’s head shot up towards them and Justine, Marley, and Unique tensed.

“Protection,” he answered simply and walked into the kitchen, pulling open the freezer and grabbing a bag of fries.

“How the hell is that going to protect us?” Tina hissed, following after him.

“Tina.” Blaine turned to face her, his face grim. “We need to face what those people were.” He said with frustration evident in his voice. “They weren’t alive, Tina. And if they were, they were eating other people.”

“They weren’t _zombie’s_ Blaine!”

“Except they were!” Blaine yelled back. “I know we’re not in a freaking zombie apocalypse movie and this isn’t science fiction! I _know_ that! But we don’t know what else to call those things that attacked our school and our whole fucking country!” He thrust his hand to the window as the sky continued to darken. “Now we don’t know how the hell we’re going to survive but I’ll be damned if I let everyone in this house die because I wasn’t strong enough to use a damn gun!”

Tina stared at him for a moment before spinning on her heel and walking out, her arms crossed over her chest.

The kitchen wasn’t silent for long, Justine, the freshman, wandering in and fiddling with the refrigerator door. “Do you want some help?” she asked after a long moment.

Slowly, Blaine looked up at her, before nodding and tossing her a bag of salad. “Make this, please?”

She nodded. “My mom was a chef,” she said after a moment of silence, pouring the salad into a bag as Blaine tossed the fries in the oven and searched for something to make with them that didn’t look too much like human meat. He settled for grilled cheese, tossing the fixings on the counter and starting to butter bread.

“My mom was an engineer.” Blaine winced at the fact that they were talking about their parents in the past tense. Like they were already dead.

“The first time she asked me to cook with her,” Justine continued, her dark hair obscuring her face. “I burnt the food so bad the fire department came to the house. It was Mother’s Day.”

Blaine and her laughed a bit at the memory. “When my brother was younger,” Blaine took to telling her a story in return. “We used to try and bake cookies together. He was great in the kitchen, me… not so much.” Justine laughed softly and helped him butter some bread. “He used to get so mad at me, because I was completely inept at rolling dough the right way.”

“Oh my,” she said quietly.

“And then, one day, I decided I was going to show him how good my cookies could be and I tried to make them myself. Now I was like, ten so… this didn’t end well.” He laughed at the memory. “I put them in for the right time, you know, but I didn’t know how to make them the same way Cooper did and there were shells in the cookies still because I couldn’t break an egg.” She smiled at him and Blaine decided that he liked her. “And they weren’t rolled right at all so they all sort of grew together but when Cooper got home he ate like five of them so that I wouldn’t think I was a horrible chef.”

Blaine smiled a bit at the memory, but something painful dug into his gut. Justine was silent too.

“He sounds great.”

 

“Yeah.”

They didn’t talk after that.

* * *

 

Santana’s heels clicked against the pavement as she rushed towards the apartment she shared with Lady Hummel and Man Hands – otherwise known as Kurt and Rachel. She had just gotten the news via a mass text sent out by the government – heard the broadcast on the radio at work – saw the footage on the news on the subway trip home. People were in a panic. Ohio had been hit by what could only be perceived as a zombie attack.

And the attacks were quickly spreading.

Santana never regretted wearing heels as much as she did as she ran down the sidewalks and up the stairs to her apartment.

Frantically, she dialed Kurt’s cell phone number again. Finally, the tenth time she tried, he answered. “What?” he barked out and Santana knew he hadn’t heard the news. Him and Rachel had begged not to be bothered, turning their phones on silent and watching musicals all day long. Santana knew he was still more than a little bit stung over what had happened the last time he had gone back to Ohio and Santana would have chewed him out for it. But later. Later. Now she just had to get him and Rachel safe.

“Have you seen the news?” she asked as she ran up the stairs. Never had Santana been more thankful for Sue Sylvester than right then.

“The news? Why?” Kurt seemed confused then, and Santana could picture him, shushing Rachel and changing to the news on their small television. She heard a gasp and a horribly concealed curse and a thousand ways to tease him for it jumped to mind. But this wasn’t the right time to do something like that. Not now. “Oh, fuck.”

“I’m, like, two floors under, I’ll be right there. Grab your shit, we’re getting the hell out here.” Santana hung up the phone and threw it into her bag, kneeling down and unlacing her heels, throwing them in there too and sprinting up the stairs as fast as she could. Why she hadn’t taken the elevator was beyond her. When she gets to their apartment she doesn’t bother trying to be nice and calm about throwing the door open. She doesn’t care about Rachel not freaking out. Rachel needed to freak out.

When she walked in, Rachel was standing in the living room, watching with wide eyes as Kurt threw necessities into a bag, trying to egg Rachel on to do the same. “Come on, Berry, pack!” Santana yelled at her and ran to her own corner of the apartment. She shimmied out of her tiny skirt and into a pair of jeans and pulls on her black leather jacket. She didn’t have the time to care that she was basically wearing a corset, as she quickly ties on her old cheering shoes. Santana grabbed a few knives out of her underwear drawer, kept there for safe keeping when she moved in. Then she moved into the kitchen. “Grab any nonperishable food and all of our sharpest knives!”

Kurt rushed to stand next to her, helping her grab cans and shove them into one of her old purses. “Guys!” Rachel interrupted frantically, her voice high pitched with panic.

“What?!” they both snap at her, neither ceasing in their movements.

“What good is leaving the apartment going to do for us?”

Kurt paused at her words and Santana cursed in Spanish under her breath. “Because then we’re sitting ducks, loca.”

“But we’re high up.” Rachel pointed up. “And we could lock the door! No way would any of them get in.”

“Oh, come on, Berry.” Santana rolled her eyes. “The news guys said to get the hell out of wherever we are and get into a basement.” Santana gestured around her. “This does not look like a basement to me.”

“Kurt?” Rachel turned her desperate brown-eyed gaze onto him.

And he just melted. “She makes a good point, Santana.”

“No.” Santana shook her head at them. “No. This is stupid. We need to get the hell out of here. We’re right outside the city. Do you have any idea how many people live here?”

“Exactly!” Rachel pointed at her as though she had just made her point easier to understand. “There are a lot of people. Shouldn’t they be able to protect us?”

“Rachel, did you even see the news? Do you have any freaking idea what’s going on in Ohio right now?” Santana tried to get her to understand.

“Santana, we’re staying here,” Kurt finally said.

“Fine.” She slung her bag over her shoulder. “Get yourselves killed.” She walked back over to her corner of the room, pulling out a few changes of clothes and throwing them into her bag, along with a hair brush and some pony tail holders, and a pair of gloves. “I’m getting the hell out of here.”

She stopped before she could get halfway across the room, though.

Screams sounded from the floors below them. Slowly they all looked down as though the floor held the answers. “Oh, fuck.” Santana dropped her bags and sprinted towards the door, but she was too late. One of the… zombies… was reaching through, and she backed up quickly, almost falling backwards onto her ass. “Oh, fucking shit.”

The zombie hissed at them, dressed in a business suit that would have been appealing but a bite mark clear on its cheek. Another followed after him, a woman this time, in a cute dress and a bite mark on the junction between her shoulder and neck. They were deathly pale and their eyes were dead. Santana fought back a panicked sob, stumbling over to her bag and opening it quickly to pull out one of the knives she had stuck in there.

Santana didn’t think, instead she lunged, swiping her knife at the male. “Run!” she yelled at the two others but Rachel was too busy screaming in the corner and Kurt was too busy trying to get her to move to do much else. She stabbed at the man, slicing his arm but no blood rose to the surface. This was like a nightmare.

She tried desperately again but more kept coming. Suddenly, Santana had a thought and grabbed onto the blade of her knife, flicking her wrist and letting it go. The edge stuck in the man’s forehead and he locked eyes with her, confused as to what that was supposed to do. He started toward her, only Santana was quicker, running up to him and slicing her other knife across his throat. With a roundhouse kick she landed him on the ground, and stomped down hard on the knife. Later she would feel disgusting for the way the knife broke through bone and brain and came out the other side. But, for now, there were more of them. So many more of them, and Santana doubting Kurt and Rachel’s ability to fight.

She jumped at the scream that tore from Rachel’s throat and, with desperate eyes, she looked over at her friend, watching as the woman grabbed at her arm and clamped down hard. “Kurt, get the hell out of here!” But as she yelled the words, she watched as he was over taken too, trying to fight them off as much as he could and his blue eyes staring at her in horror as skin was torn from his body. Santana felt sick. Felt like shit. But she grabbed her bag and tore the knife from the man’s head with a squish and ran as fast as she could out of the apartment, kicking more than one of the zombies off the railing and down to the bottom floor.

“Help!” A woman screamed from the bottom floor and Santana skidded to a halt, staring at the woman in shock. She was relatively safe, but tucked under the stairwell and, if Santana looked closely, she could tell that she wasn’t much older than herself.

“Come on!” Santana grabbed onto her forearm and hauled her up, the two of them sprinting from the building as fast as they could and out into the open road.

“My car!” The woman tugged Santana in the opposite direction. “My car!”

“We can’t save you fucking car!” Santana yelled at her.

“My car can save us!” the woman insisted, tugging more and dragging Santana over to a beat-up looking blue Ford. But it would work. Certainly better than running would. Santana slid into the passenger seat as the woman turned the key to start the engine, neither of them bothering to buckle themselves in. They could either die in a car accident or be eaten by zombies. Santana would take her chances with a car accident.

* * *

 

One minute Puck was yelling, "Come at me, bros!" to a mob of Mannequins in Silent Hill, chomping away at their limbs with a pick axe, with Finn reading a textbook for one of his classes behind him, and the next the door to their dorm is flung open, followed by Scott and Tony running in from across the hall. Of course, Puck paid no mind, but Finn was up and out from the bottom bunk, rubbing at his head from slamming it into the bottom of Puck's bunk, and demanding what was going on.

Scott spoke up then, his voice frantic, but the unmistakable excitement came through loud and clear. "Dudes! You gotta see the news!"

"Yeah," Tony broke in. "It's a zombie apocalypse out there!"

Finn blinked, confusion lacing his features. Puck was still tapping away at the Playstation 3 controller in his hand, oblivious to everything. "What the hell?" Finn sputtered out, because this is completely insane. There was no such thing as zombies, even Finn knew that. Zombies were in videos games and movies and television shows. There was no way in hell that they were real.

"Yeah, man! It's all over the news. McKinley already got hit with an attack. No one knows anything, but there's dead kids everywhere and –"

Finn tuned the boy out in favor of turning to Puck and taking over the controller – "I didn't save, you asshole!" – and sloppily turning on the news with frantic fingers as McKinley is splashed all over the screen.

After a few moments of angry grumbling and scrambling for the remote to turn his game back on, Puck finally stilled as he heard it. " _There seems to have been a… zombie attack on William McKinley High School."_ The female news anchor couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice. Puck sat up sharply beside Finn, eyes glued to the television. His stomach was clenching and his eyes were frantically searching the footage for any sign of anyone he knew in the clips. Sadly, there was no one and he couldn’t quite decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"What the fuck?" He managed to get out. His heart was racing and a million thoughts were flying through his brain. _How – this is actually real_.  There was a time – when playing Left for Dead all night long and watching The Walking Dead and all those other zombie movies – that Puck would think that it would be super fucking awesome to be able to shoot down zombies. But now that the opportunity was staring him in the face, it was all too fucking real.

"Yeah, man! Better get your Left for Dead skills ready, you're gonna need it!" Neither Puck nor Finn cared who said it. Without a thought, Puck was up on his feet, anger surging through his veins because he had no time to be scared in a situation like this.

"This isn't a fucking game! This is _real_!" He said and Finn was at his side, holding him back from punching the guy in his face. The other two were laughing like the true fools they were, and Puck faintly heard Finn saying, "They're not worth it," in his ear over the pulsing of his heart. Finn was right; they were fucktards and they'd probably end up dead. A smile came over Puck's face at the thought.

"It's your funeral," Puck yelled to their retreating backs out the door. With their job done, they were probably off to go get themselves some zombies. Puck, on the other hand, scoffed and rushed over to his backpack. He began stuffing anything and everything in it that he thought he would need or be of use in this type of situation.

Finn alternated between watching the news and watching him, standing in the middle of the small dorm like a giant statue. After about the four transition of his gaze, he finally focused on Puck. "What are you doing?" He demanded.

Puck paused, taking a breath as he straightened to look Finn in the eye. "C'mon, dude, you're the ex-solider." Finn flinched, but Puck paid no heed. There was no time. "I'm getting ready for war, dumbass." He decided to just be straight to the point, since this was Finn and that was the best method of getting through to his tall friend.

"Dude, you don't mean –" He broke off, eyes wide, head shaking. "No, dude, are you _insane_? These are real-life zombies. They could _kill_ you!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Puck deadpanned, stuffing the last of his stuff in his backpack. Puck zipped it up and threw it over his shoulders. "They're zombies, yeah, but I ain't gonna be some fucking pansy-ass, sitting duck waiting for them to come kill me. I'm gonna fucking fight." There was the infamous Puckerman glint in his eyes now and Finn knew that once Puck got a plan in his head, there was no backing down. "So either you're coming with me and covering my back or you're sitting here waiting to be eaten. Once I leave here, I ain't coming back for you. So choose now, Hudson." His voice was hard, steely, and it kicked Finn into action.

"Dude, of course I got your back! I ain't letting you go alone!" Then Finn started packing too, while Puck was throwing a pair of jeans on over his boxers. Puck figured that at least twenty minutes had passed when he was throwing Finn his extra hockey stick. The two quickly pushed their feet into their shoes and then they were rushing out into the hallway.

It was chaos. Girls were screaming, guys were yelling, and Puck had to dodge so many people running in the opposite direction. But Finn managed to get around Puck, and soon Finn was using his superior height to surge his way through the sea of people. Puck glided on behind him, not always one to be a follower, but at a time like this he was grateful to have Finn on his side. At least they were quickly getting out of the building.

With Finn taking on the brunt work and Puck just following along, it gave time for Puck to try and form a game plan. Part of him – and he was sure Finn too – wanted to make a break for McKinley. Sam and Jake and Artie and Blaine and all the other Glee Club kids could be in trouble, but it was poor thinking to head straight into the bulk of the war zone armed with only a fucking hockey stick. Then his mind turned to his mother and his sister.

Were they okay?

His mother was in Colombus visiting his nana; his sister, Michelle, was at the elementary school down the street from their house. He wanted to immediately go get her, the urge burning through his veins, but he still was armed with only a fucking hockey stick. He and Finn needed to stock up on supplies. So as much as it went against everything he believed in, he knew he had to stop at home first.

Who knows, maybe he'd get lucky and his small sister would have broken out of that school and hightailed it home.

"Dude," Finn yelled back over his shoulder. They were out of the dorm and quickly making it across the courtyard of the college. Each had their eyes peeled for anything zombie-like, not knowing if the outbreak had spread this far yet but still wary. "We need to get at least a gun. Two for each, if we're lucky."

Good to see Finn was on the same page. Puck figured it was his military training setting in.

"Already ahead of you, bro," Puck responded, moving to walk beside Finn instead of behind him now that they were out in the open. "My house. Dad's gun is still in the garage." Puck had never been more grateful for his douchebag of a father for forgetting it all those years ago.

"Yeah, good." Finn nodded, taking a quick glance behind him. No sign of zombies. Yet. "Burt's got a shotgun. He's in DC so he won't need it." That was Finn's justification of taking what wasn't his and Puck only nodded.

"So here's the plan: my house, yours, and then elementary school because I got to find Chelle." Puck chanced a glance at Finn, seeing his nod, and together they both picked of speed and started running in the direction of their street.

* * *

 

Sam drove like a wild man. He ignored Kitty's nasty retorts from the backseat telling him to slow down or he'd kill them and they wouldn't have to worry about being eaten. His mind was only focused on one thing: getting to his brother and sister.

He was a good driver, fortunately. He maneuvered his way through the busy streets like a freaking race car driver, with Artie keeping watch and telling him if a thing is coming, and Sam just running them straight over without a blink of an eye. There were a lot of them, too many for Sam to even want to comprehend.

So he didn't. He shut off that part of his mind, forgetting how many of his fellow classmates he has had to hit; how many older adults he has barreled over. How many kids and pets, too.

Then he was pulling up next to Independence Elementary and jumping out. He slammed his door with the ignition still running as he frantically scanned the sea of little kids running around. It tore at his heart, hearing the screaming and seeing a few children covered in blood. But none of them were the unnatural shade of pale, and he was grateful for that. These kids have a fighting chance if they can just get far enough away.

He didn't see either of his twin siblings and his heart's pounding so hard in his chest that he feels like it's going to fly out at any moment. He rushed forward, yelling their names over and over again. But he still couldn’t see them; still couldn’t hear an answering call back. And then he was running up the steps and his hand just brushed the plastic of the front doors of the school when he heard a frantic yell of his name.

He turned sharply towards the yell, and he knew it wasn’t either one of his siblings – it was familiar and it affected him all the same. A hand was gripping his, and when he looked down he was met with familiar brown eyes, a softer color than he was used to. A little girl was standing there, hand clutching his like a lifeline. Her brown hair was falling out of her braids and her face was pinched tightly in fear. But she was biting her lip, her eyes swimming, and he wasn’t really not surprised to see that. She was just like her older brother.

"Michelle!" He said, because this is Puck's little sister and she was scared, and he had to fight a wave of dizziness as relief flooded his bloodstream. She may not be Stevie or Stacie but she was like a little sister to him and he hadn't even thought about her being in danger before now. Guilt stabbed at him.

"I want Noah." She said in a soft voice and Sam quickly picked her up, trying to give her the comfort she needs.

"I'll get you to him, don't you worry your pretty little head." He reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. _Shit, Puck_! He hadn't even thought about him or Finn. Did the college get hit too? His fingers itched to reach for his cell phone to call him, but he couldn't until he knew what happened to his siblings.

He scans the schoolyard again, his eyes blue coming up empty. He hears Chelle give a soft whimper, trying her damn hardest to keep herself from crying. Other than that, and her tiny body trembling, she was holding up well and he knew Puck would have been damn proud of her. And God, it hurt to think of him in the past tense. Was he even alive?

Sam's head hurt from having his thoughts pulled in so many directions. He needs to stop and just worry about his siblings; they were his priority. Puck could take care of himself. But Sam was running out of options. He could – and desperately wanted to – run around this school like a crazy man until he found them, but there simply was no time. Especially not now that he had Chelle, and then there was Kitty and Artie stuck in the car.

_Focus, Evans._

Then a thought rammed into the forefront of his skull and he could have kicked himself for being so stupid. Chelle. She was Stevie and Stacie's age. She was even in the same class. They were friends! Duh, maybe she knew! So he turned to her. "Chelle, do you know what happened to Stevie and Stacie?"

Chelle looked up at him then, eyes wide. She shook her head. "The bad men took Jamie and Stacie! Stevie told them they took her they need to take him!" Chelle explained, tears now making a quick descent down her cheeks. The rest of her story got lost in her tears.

Sam couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He almost dropped Chelle from his arms as his body went numb and his stomach lurched. He bit his lip to keep from gagging, not wanting to upset Chelle any further. They were gone. He was too late; he couldn't save them. He was their big brother; he was supposed to protect them. But he didn't. He didn't drive fast enough. He didn't run enough, scream enough. He should have saved them.

Chelle hid her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck, her tears like paint splatters on his skin and her hair tickling his neck bringing him out of his grief and back to the present.

Right. Because he had one of his best friend's sister's in his arms. He was still standing at the Elementary school, not watching his back. He could have been overtaken in the blink of an eye. Artie and Kitty were still in the car (hopefully still alive) waiting for him.

He lost two, but he had a scared little girl that he still had a chance to keep safe. He had friends that he could save. _For Stevie and Stacie_. He couldn't lose any more people. No one was dying on his watch. Not again.

Sam swallowed his tears, his grief, his pain. He sent a silent prayer to the heavens, closing his eyes and holding Chelle close to his chest, lips pressing a kiss to her hair. He prayed that Stevie and Stacie were safe in God's hands and that they didn't suffer.

When he opened his eyes, there was a hard determination shining through. He sprinted to the car, shielding and protecting Chelle as he would a football in a game. Kitty saw him coming, Sam letting out the breath he was holding in relief as she met him and plucked Chelle from his arms. Chelle wailed, clutching at Sam harder. It tore at his heart to tell her that she had to let go and that the nice blonde cheerleader would take good care of her. It hurt to see the scared look in her eyes as her sense of safety was stolen from her. But he had to drive, Kitty not old enough and Artie not capable. He promised her, locking blue eyes with wide brown ones swimming with tears, that he would not let anything happen to her, Kitty speaking up that she would not either.

"We have to go find Noah, honey," He said then, when their attempts of comforting and reassuring her do not work. And somehow, the mention of finding her brother calmed her enough so that Kitty could take her, hugging her tight, as she slips back into the backseat.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to compose himself. There was a scream from behind him, ruining the effect. Sam whips around, and there's a lot less people in the yard now. Everyone was running towards their cars. A pale man in a dark grey suit was chomping down on a kid on the front steps of the school. Sam was relieved that it wasn’t Stevie or Stacie. But then the pale figure – bloody and gruesome – locked eyes on him and started a creepy, dragging run towards him.

"Shit," Sam said and then he was frantically pulling open the door and jumping in the seat. The door slammed shut behind him and he heard both Artie and Kitty yelling at him to hurry up and get them out of there. Sam was trying hard to breathe, panic rushing through his veins, but he caught a glimpse of Chelle's brown hair in the rearview mirror and it calmed him enough to pull the gear shift into reverse.

He should just speed away, but he didn’t. He got an idea. He waited, urging him silently closer as he hobbled to the nose of his car. Then Sam let out a loud howl like war call and he was ripping the car into drive and plowing the creature over. 

Chelle screamed and he hated it, but what was done was done. He could have killed Stevie or Stacie or both. In any case, he got revenge for that kid dying on the steps.

"Let's go find that brother of yours," He roared and then they were speeding down the street again.

He told Artie to call Puck, but the phone was dead. Sam felt his heart clench and his stomach knot. "Call Blaine. Call everyone you can," He commanded. Because Puck couldn't be dead. His phone could be, but definitely not Puck.

"They're dead," Artie reported with shaking fingers, and when Sam looked at him sharply, Artie shook his head frantically. "The phones; not them. _Cell service_ ," He stressed voice higher than normal. And then Artie was frantically turning on the car radio and it just occurred to Sam that the thing hasn't been on. People tend to forget that the radio is a source of information after having a Smartphone at your fingertips.

The voice of the President broke through the speakers. " _—cellular and Internet service has been officially shut down. Please, we must stress that everyone stays in their homes. We ask that people still alive try to make their way to the nearest city, where the military has set up a safe house. Do not approach these things that look like your loved ones. If one approaches you, either run away or kill it on sight. We will be broadcasting again in a few hours."_ Then the radio was dead silent.

"Well, with Sam driving we don't have to worry too much," Artie joked, his voice brittle from the lack of humor cutting through the silence. But he tried, and Sam was so happy that he tried.

"You got that right, buddy," He added, his voice still managing a little humor. Because this was Sam and humor was his coping mechanism. Plus, he figured he was still flying high on the rush of adrenaline from running the dude over. He was entitled to sound crazy. He flicked his gaze to Artie. "Hope they like the taste of rubber as I leave skid marks on their face."

When he looked back at the road – nearing Puck's and the Hummel-Hudson  place now – he slammed on the breaks so hard he flung forward and slammed his forehead against the steering wheel. He groaned, rubbing at his head and biting back a curse in favor of the tiny, virgin ears in his backseat. He looked up, sitting back, and he looked closely at the sight that was the cause of his sudden stop in disbelief. He had to work hard to get his tongue to move, his throat dry from shock, eyes wide.

"Puck?" He croaked, sure he was hallucinating. He did not want to study him, scared that he wasn't actually Puck. But then there was a scrambling in the backseat and the doors flung open.

"NOAH!" Michelle cried, and Sam was scrambling to open his door to jump out and grab her. He couldn't lose her, and how fucked up would it be if she died at the clutches of the creature that looked like her brother? But fortunately, Kitty is quicker and she held the flailing girl to her chest.

"Michelle?" Sam heard "Puck" say in disbelief, and he really, really hoped that he wasn’t infected or whatever the fuck they were supposed to call those damn things. "MICHELLE!" Puck yelled and soon he was running towards Kitty and Michelle and Sam's heart stopped.

"NO! STAY AWAY FROM HER!" He bellows as he finally forces the door open. He's unarmed, but he does not give a fuck at the moment.

Puck skidded to a stop, leveling a glare on Sam. It did not last as his eyes seemed to focus on Sam and his body is sagged in relief. Finn ran up behind him.

"Dude, Sam, it's us! We swear. Look!" Finn pleaded and Sam did. He took in their normal complexions, their backpacks and hockey sticks, and he was so relieved that he was running at Finn, since Puck was running at a Michelle that had finally broken loose from Kitty, and Sam was just so glad that they were all okay.  


End file.
